


A small town called Gibraltar

by imagine_pink



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Secret Identity, Superheroes, Supervillains
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-31
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-07-04 23:58:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15852087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imagine_pink/pseuds/imagine_pink
Summary: The one where Hanzo moves to a new town to live a normal life, falls in love with a nerdy reporter, then starts to get hit on by his local supervillain which results in him uncovering a conspiracy about the town he just moved to.





	A small town called Gibraltar

After twenty-eight years, two-hundred and thirty-six days, fifteen hours and exactly four minutes of being alive, Hanzo was informed that his father had passed away. 

Thirty-two hours and forty-seven minutes later, they held his funeral. 

Exactly two hours and three seconds after the funeral, Genji had runaway, fleeing the Shimada clan and the lifestyle it had entailed. The clan elders, infuriated, had ordered Hanzo to kill Genji for his disobedience. 

Twenty-three minutes later, Hanzo had caught up to Genji at the outskirts of Hanamura, looked his brother in the eye, and found that he could not bring himself to do what was ordered of him. 

A total of two years, eighteen days and nine hours was spent running and hiding from the clan whilst simultaneously trying to dismantle the Shimada empire. Until one day, Genji turned to him and said, _‘I’m tired brother’_ – and Hanzo had known exactly what he meant. 

And so – at the age of thirty years, seventy-five days, two hours and exactly eighteen minutes, Hanzo along with his brother moved to a small town called Gibraltar.

\--------

Hanzo gave a deep sigh as he resisted the urge to check his watch for what felt like the hundredth time that day. The line was moving at a glacial pace, but after two and a half hours of waiting there was only one middle aged woman with her kid left in front of him. 

Forcing himself to find something to distract his mind off the line, his eyes wandered over the room – from the security guard who was obviously _not_ looking at the x-ray screen that he was supposed to be monitoring, to hipster in the corner drinking a lime green bastion shake (he honestly had no idea why this town was so obsessed with the sugary concoction) before finally settling on the child in front of him who was in the middle of acting out an epic battle between Soldier:76 and his nemesis Reaper with his plastic figurines. 

“Next,” a bored voice called out as the line obediently shuffled forward. 

Hanzo cheered internally as he finally stepped forward to the front of the line. He checked his watch – 11:45am. Perhaps if he was lucky he would be able to get out in time to go back to work before lunch. 

He had gotten a call this morning, informing him that he had suspicious activity on his account. Whilst he was grateful that his bank cared enough about its customers to notice the suspicious activity, he was less grateful that he had to personally come down to the bank to verify the expenses and unfreeze his bank account rather than just confirming over the phone that – yes, he did purchase a gaudy gold belt buckle with the letters BAMF on it (he did not know exactly what the letters stood for, but when Genji questioned him, he had claimed that ‘of course he knew’ – now he was too afraid to look it up for fear of Genji finding out and proving that he had been right all along). 

All of which had lead him to his current predicament – wasting his morning away in this jail cell. Prior to living in this town, Hanzo would have laughed at anyone who made the exaggeration (most likely to be Genji) and kindly remind them that patience was a virtue. However, after nearly three hours and counting, Hanzo could safely say he was all out of virtue. 

Looking around, it was hard not to take note of why it was taking so long for the queue to move forward. Despite being one of the smaller banks on the outskirts of Gibraltar, it was strangely packed. It seemed that everyone and their entire extended family had decided to come in at the exact same time. The bank, who obviously had not accounted for the influx of customers, had appointed a little old lady as the sole bank teller. The fact that she seemed to move in slow motion whilst constantly muttering to herself – _‘now, if I click here I should be able to submit – oops! Guess I’ll have to start again. It’s ok Esther, third times the charm’_ , did not help matters at all. 

“Sir, step forward please.” 

Eagerly, he stepped forward onto the black mat. 

“Name and ID?”

“Hanzo Yamada,” he answered, sliding his driver’s licence out of his wallet and handing it over to the security guard. The guard gave the licence a bored once over, holding it up next to Hanzo’s face, eyes flickering between the picture and his face. Eventually, he grunted in approval and handed the card back. 

“Here for…suspicious activities on credit card?” the guard asked skimming down his checklist.

“Yes, I’m here to verify those and unfreeze my bank account.” 

The guard did not seem to care as he handed over a standard grey box. 

“Please take off your shoes and put all your belongings into the box,” the security guard instructed. 

He sighed again as he pulled out phone and keys, returned his licence to his wallet, unclasped his watch (which read 11:54 am) and laid them down neatly in the box before slipping out of his shoes and placing them into the box as well. 

 

“Nice socks,” the guard commented with a smirk as another guard grabbed the box, jostling the contents inside, turning around and dumping it onto a conveyer belt presumably to be x-rayed.

Hanzo scowled. 

They were pink with cartoon cacti on them and were given to him as a gift on their month anniversary – _‘coz yer always complaining that yer footsies are cold’_. He had sworn up and down that he would never wear them, but over time Hanzo had come to adore them just as much as the person who gave it to him. 

The guard, seeing that his comment roused no verbal response from Hanzo, gave a grunt and shrugged. 

“Alright, now raise your arms shoulder height and legs shoulder width apart please.” 

Hanzo grimaced as he did as he was told. This part always left him feeling gross and oddly invaded. He glowered at the security guard in front of him. 

“Hey buddy – I like this as much as you do, okay? We’re just doing what we gotta do to keep everyone safe.”

Hanzo nodded and tried to relax as the pat down began. 

The _real_ reason the bank was moving slower than a snail was because of this. The metal detectors, the security guards patting everyone down, the yellow signs on the wall screaming that this place was under 24 hour surveillance – it was all very hard to miss. 

At first, he had thought that it was just his bank that had all the extra accessories and that they did so in order to give patrons a false sense of security that _their_ bank was _more protected_. However, as he spent the first few days wandering around Gibraltar, he noticed that every bank had a similar set up. 

The security overload wasn’t just limited to the banks either – jewellery stores, museums, art galleries – basically any building that held some sort of value had the extra security. When he bought this up with Genji, his brother had given a nervous laugh and tried to change the topic. 

That was when he found out about Gibraltar’s _unique_ problem. 

_Supervillains._

Plural. 

As in more than one. 

_‘Yes, brother. That is what plural means,’_ Genji had sniped an hour after of listening to Hanzo rant and yell. 

It had suddenly all made sense. 

Why it was so easy to get a job in security despite his shady resume and why his brother was so keen to move to such a quiet and small town – practically shoving brochures down Hanzo’s throat about the fact that the town had a nationally famous museum and art gallery both of which he knew Hanzo enjoyed immensely. 

Hanzo had been furious. 

He remembered stalking around the kitchen – scrubbing down every available surface whilst simultaneously lecturing Genji about how disappointed he was and how he thought Genji had turned over a new leaf only to find out he was back to his irresponsible ways. They had moved to get _away_ from danger not live right in it. Genji, knowing better than to interrupt his brother while he was in the midst of a cleaning rage, had sulked in his seat in silence. 

_‘It’s not that dangerous! There are superheroes too!’_ Genji had protested. 

Hanzo exploded for the second time and the two brothers had spent the entire night arguing. Hanzo had wanted to move immediately whilst Genji insisted that Gibraltar was the perfect city for both of them and that he should give it a chance. Eventually, Hanzo relented and agreed to give Gibraltar a month and if it still proved to be too dangerous they would move. 

That had been six months ago. 

“All done.” 

The declaration broke Hanzo out of his reverie, glad that he had zoned out for the pat-down. 

“Just walk through, grab your belongings and someone should be with you shortly.” 

Hanzo nodded his thanks before walking through the metal detector and gathering his belongings from the security guard who had taken them away initially.

What a complete waste of time, Hanzo thought as he slid his phone, keys and wallet back into his pocket. For one thing, for all that trouble the only thing that separated this side from the other was a few metal posts with red rope dangling in between them. 

Hanzo shook his head as he finished fastening his watch (which now read 11:59 am) and reached for his shoes. It was probably more to make people feel better. After all, with supervillains like Reaper, Junkrat, and – 

A loud squeal of tires on asphalt cut his thought short. He whipped around, muscles tense with all systems on full alert. A loud bang resounded through the room as the doors of the bank were kicked open. 

A confident figure strolled in, backlit by the morning sun. 

Hanzo shielded his eyes from the glare and squinted as he tried to make out the silhouette. 

_“It’s high noon,”_ the figure announced.

Hanzo glanced down at his watch. 

Well they weren’t wrong. 

\----------------

In a flash, the sluggish and quiet bank erupted into chaos. Hanzo dropped into a fighting stance as he saw three other heavily armed figures, clad from head to toe in black burst into the room next to the original intruder. One of the intruders on the far left lobbed a ball-shaped object towards the middle of the room which exploded in mid-air, filling the space with dark plumes of smoke. Next, there was a series of gunshot sounds followed by people screaming in confusion and fear. 

“GET DOWN ON THE GROUND – NOW! FACE DOWN YOU HEAR ME?” 

“HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEAD!” 

A brief thought crossed his mind about taking down the intruders himself, but was quickly dismissed. He moved to Gibraltar to live a _normal_ life and thus he was going to do the _normal_ thing that a _normal_ person would do – lay low and try not to die. 

Thus, Hanzo obediently laid himself on the ground and placed his hands behind head. When his cheek made contact with the dusty carpet, he wiggled to make himself comfortable and resigned to his fate for the next however many minutes it would take these amateurs to rob the bank. 

As the smoke cleared, he could see the robbers waving their guns around – demanding everyone to take out their cell phones. These were then yanked out of the hostages’ hands and dropped into a bucket of water. The robbers bounded their hands with zip ties and herded them to a corner of the bank where one of the thugs clad in black stood guard. Looking around Hanzo also noticed that someone had closed all the blinds on the windows, secured the door with a bike lock and most remarkably – shot out all the security cameras. 

Impressive aim. 

One of the goons in black kicked over one of the metal posts which sent its siblings all crashing to the ground. He marched over to the counter gesticulating with his gun and ordering for the bank tills to be emptied into a black duffel bag which he shoved at the cowering Esther. 

Hanzo saw Esther curl herself tighter into a ball, figure shaking as she sobbed into her pink cardigan. The goon, frustrated with Esther’s lack of compliance, started shouting louder and pointing the gun closer to her face. 

“Enough!” 

Hanzo hadn’t realised he had spoken until he realised the goon was staring at him. Hanzo gingerly got to his feet – the goon following his every move with his gun. 

“Hey! Stay down! Did I say you could stand shithead?”

Hanzo raised his arms pacifyingly and tried to look as non-threatening as possible. 

“She’s clearly paralysed with fear – let me do it. I am not here to cause you any trouble,” Hanzo bargained. 

The goon looked him up and down, eyeing his muscular and toned physique. 

“Do I look like a fool to you?” the goon spat out, never taking his eye off Hanzo. “Hey T-bone! Get me one of those girls to empty the tills – a real pretty one with nice curves! Lucky – get this old hag out of here and gag her. Her crying is driving me nuts!”

Hanzo could hear a girl screaming behind her, begging her captors not to do this to her. He grimaced. He almost wished he had chosen to take out these low-lives before. 

“As for you, Mr. Martyr – let’s make an example out of you,” the goon sneered out taking and aiming his gun. 

Hanzo tensed. He had no wish to die here. Should he summon his dragons? They would be able to take out all the enemies and leave the patrons unarmed. But that would also mean that he and Genji would have to relocate and leave everything and _everyone_ in this town behind. At that thought, Hanzo’s heart gave a strange twinge. 

A jangling noise momentarily distracted the thug, making Hanzo pause. He could still feel his dragons roiling underneath the surface of his skin – ready to come out at a moment’s notice. 

“Hey there now partner, let’s just all take a deep breath and relax,” a deep voice drawled in a southern accent behind him. 

Hanzo noted that the voice had a distinct electronic echo suggesting it had been scrambled. The jangling noise grew louder and louder until they stopped right beside Hanzo with one last jingle. 

“Nice socks, darling.” 

Hanzo turned fully to look at the man beside him. The first thing he noticed was that this man was taller than him by several inches. The next things he noticed in quick succession – the cowboy hat pulled low over his features, a black domino mask which hid away his eyes, and a red blanket which was draped whimsically around his shoulders that covered the lower half of his face. As his eyes travelled down the new comer, he noticed that the man was wearing cowboy boots with _spurs_. Hanzo resisted the urge to roll his eyes. 

“Oh, Deadeye!” Esther cried out coming out of her little ball and standing up. “Thank goodness you’re here!”

Hanzo looked at her in confusion. Wasn’t Deadeye a supervillain? Why would she be glad that he was here? Did they know each other? Was Esther in on the bank robbery? But she had seemed terrified until a moment ago. 

“Howdy ma’am! Sorry ‘bout the fright we gave ya.” 

Hanzo eyebrows threatened to fly of his face as he watched Deadeye take three strides to the counter, grasp one of Esther’s wrinkly hands in his own leather clad ones and plant a chaste kiss on her knuckles through his – scarf? Blanket? Esther let out a giggle, covering her mouth with her free hand. 

“Would you mind accompanying me, we’ll find you a nice chair to relax in until this is all over,” Deadeye drawled leading her out from behind the counter by her hand. “Hey T-bone! Let the poor girl go!”

Hanzo turned and saw a blonde girl let out a shriek of relief as her captor released her arm. She dropped like sack of vegetables and scrambled back to the corner where all the other hostages were. 

“What the hell you doing? You really wanna deal with this guy?” the goon yelled gesturing at Hanzo with his gun. 

“Sure,” Deadeye said with a shrug. “I’ve already gotten what I came here for – left the safe open for ya too. Why don’t you go empty it and I’ll look after this guy.” 

The goon threw his hands up in the air in exasperation, muttering curses underneath his breath and gestured for the lackey named Lucky to follow him. 

“On your head be it then.” 

“I’ll take that risk – plus, he ain’t too bad on the eyes either,” he heard Deadeye remark, dragging his eyes up and down Hanzo’s body finishing off his inspection with a wink. 

Hanzo flushed – resisting the urge to cover himself with his arms. 

“I have a boyfriend,” he blurted out before he could stop himself. Hanzo felt himself flush as mortification swept over him. He was glad Genji was not here – he would have never been able to live this moment down. 

The great Hanzo Shimada, reduced to a defensive damsel. 

He saw Deadeye stare at him incredulously for a second before he burst out laughing. Hanzo bristled as the cowboy continued to laugh, clutching at his stomach and slapping his knee at random intervals. He couldn’t see what was so funny. Finally, Deadeye stood up, wiping a tear out of his left eye and giving off a few last chuckles. 

“Aww…shucks. I’m sure he knows he’s a very lucky man, sweet-pea,” he chortled. “Now if ya wouldn’t mind coming over here slowly and empty these tills here for me, that would be great.” 

Embarrassed, Hanzo stormed over to the counter before neatly jumped over it. 

He heard Deadeye whistle in appreciation at the show of athleticism. Hanzo ignored the eyes he could feel boring into him as he slammed open draws looking for the till key. Finding a bunch, he jammed the keys into the till hoping that one of them would work so he would be out of the cowboy’s scrutiny.

He heard spurs approach closer followed by a soft thump as an elbow came to down rest on the counter in front of him. He looked up, only to realise Deadeye’s face was inches away from his, supported lazily by his hand. Startled, Hanzo back peddled, stumbling over a chair in his haste to put some distance between them. 

“Any luck, darling?” Deadeye asked, voice tickled with mirth. 

“Do not address me as such,” he bit out, resuming his task of trying to find the matching key. 

“Why? Is that what your sweetheart calls you?”

Hanzo’s head shot up. How had he–? When he saw the mischievous twinkle in Deadeye’s eyes he realised he had just been successfully baited. Although he couldn’t see the man’s mouth, he knew the man had just widened his grin under the red blanket. 

“Tell me, sugar,” Deadeye began, inspecting his nails in a nonchalant manner, “do you love him?”

Furious, Hanzo slammed the keys down on the table. How dare this vandal ask him such a personal question. Shaking with rage, he leaned into Deadeye’s space slowly and smirked wickedly when he saw Deadeye’s eyes widen and his confident demeanour begin to waver. Their noses were centimetres apart and he could feel the hot exhale of Deadeye’s breath wafting up in puffs from his blanket. Hanzo bared his teeth. 

“Tell me, Deadeye,” he mocked, “do you enjoy being a disgrace to society?”

They speed at which Deadeye withdrew from their conversation was as if he had been burnt. Hanzo saw what he thought was a flicker of – hurt? Remorse? Guilt? Either way it was gone in an instant and Deadeye made any further attempts of reading his expression impossible as he pulled down his hat and turned away. 

“Guess I’m just bad down to the bone, honey,” he drawled sounding morose. 

Hanzo almost felt bad. 

“Hey Deadeye! We’re done here!” the thug, who Hanzo recognised as the one who wanted to shoot him, yelled as he and Lucky emerged from a door carrying duffel bags full of what Hanzo presumed to be cash. “Did you empty the tills?”

“Naw,” Deadeye said as he shrugged, “couldn’t find the damn key.” 

“Who the hell cares?” the one named Lucky called, “we’ve got so much money we’ll be rolling in riches till we die! Let’s roll before the damn Soldier gets here.” 

“You still good to go with your exit plan, Deadeye?” Lucky asked turning to face the direction that he and Deadeye were standing in. 

“Sure am, partner,” Deadeye answered giving a firm nod. “T-bone chuck us that bag next to you.” 

Deadeye caught the bag with both hands, before bending down, unzipping it and pulling out a black vest with a bunch of rectangular packages duct taped to it with red wires looping around chaotically. Hanzo tensed with fear as Deadeye turned to look at him. Hanzo saw Deadeye’s body language became softer as he recognised the terror in Hanzo’s eyes. 

“It’s ok darling, nothing to fear,” he said softly as if he was trying to reassure a frightened animal. “I promise we’re all gonna make it out alive. Trust me.” 

Dragons. 

Hanzo should summon his dragons. It would only take a few seconds before their wrath would descend and tear his enemies to pieces. Sure, he would probably have to leave town – after all, there were only so many people in the world who could summon dragons and the Shimada clan would be down on them in a flash. 

It was then – at that exact moment, as he was staring into Deadeye’s eyes, that Hanzo realised. He didn’t want to leave Gibraltar. He liked his job, he liked going to the art gallery on Sunday mornings, liked feeding the ducks in his local park (the mother had just given birth to ducklings and even Hanzo could admit that they were incredibly cute yellow balls of fluff) and most of all, he liked the people here. 

“Darling, I swear on my mother’s grave that no harm will come to you,” he heard Deadeye coax. 

Resigning his fate up to chance (and the whims of a crazy supervillain who willingly chose to dress up as a cowboy), he leapt over the counter and walked slowly towards Deadeye. 

“I just need you to lift both your hands up for me, sugar,” Deadeye instructed as he threaded Hanzo’s arms through the vest before zipping it up securely in the front. “There we go – now that wasn’t so bad now was it?”

Hanzo glared as he saw Deadeye bend down to retrieve a roll of duct tape. The duct tape made a loud ripping sound as Deadeye tore a chunk off before placing it gently over Hanzo’s mouth. Next he bought both of Hanzo’s wrists behind his back and secured them together firmly with another few layers of duct tape. Deadeye gave a small pause, admiring his work, before finally pulling out a ratty red handkerchief and tying it around Hanzo’s mouth and nose. 

“You’ll thank me for that later darling,” he whispered to Hanzo with a wink, putting a large hand on the small of Hanzo’s back and using the other hand to dig around his pocket to pull out a device with a large red button on it. 

As Hanzo loathed to admit it, the warmth of Deadeye’s hand felt reassuring in that moment. 

“All right! Let’s get this show on the road, gents!” Deadeye called, and then in a lower tone he murmured, “nice and slow darling. Just follow my lead.” 

He felt pressure being applied to his lower back as he was guided forward towards the entrance. Hanzo felt his eyebrows shoot up – surely Deadeye’s getaway plan wasn’t to just stroll through the front door. Hanzo felt a coil of dread tighten in his stomach – he was most definitely going to die. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw T-bone use a pair of bolt cutters to dismantle the bike lock that had been previously securing the front door. He gave it a kick and the doors flung open. The outside light momentarily blinded Hanzo as he felt himself being led through the door – he could feel the rough gravel of the pavement digging through his socks and into the soles of his feet. 

When his eyes finally adjusted to the harsh light, he was met with a wall of police barricades and a sea of lights as reporters from different stations and newspapers fought to get the best picture and angle. Hanzo tucked his head down, partly because he wanted to keep his face out of the media and partly because he was embarrassed to be caught in such a helpless position. 

“DO NOT SHOOT! I REPEAT DO NOT SHOOT!” Hanzo heard someone yell through a megaphone. “HOSTAGE SIGHTED – I REPEAT, DO NOT SHOOT!” 

“Listen up!” he heard Deadeye yell beside him. “I’ve got this one strapped to some pretty serious bombs and I’ve got my finger here, pressed on the trigger. If I even for a moment take my finger off everyone in a five-mile radius is gonna be blown to smithereens! Now y’all are gonna stay put and we’ll be on our merry little way.”

Hanzo felt Deadeye give his arm a tug as he tried to lead Hanzo towards the side. Surely Deadeye wasn’t planning on escaping _with_ him? Hanzo planted his feet firmly on the ground, refusing to budge. Being held hostage was one thing, but it was another thing entirely to allow himself to be kidnapped. Suddenly, the grip on his arm tensed as a loud booming voice echoed throughout the street. 

_“I’ve got you in my sights.”_

“Shit,” he heard Deadeye murmur and Hanzo felt his heart stop in his chest as Deadeye lifted his finger off the button. 

Hanzo braced himself to be blown to pieces. Instead a loud hissing sound erupted from his vest as dark billowing plumes started to fill the street. 

\----------------

“Brother, what happened to you?” Genji asked incredulously from his spot on the couch as Hanzo slammed the front door behind him. “You’re absolutely filthy!” 

Hanzo ignored him as he trudged up the staircase and into the bathroom, slamming the door behind him with a loud bang. He stripped off his shirt and threw it into a corner recognising a lost cause when he saw one – the previously cream coloured shirt was now supporting a lavender hue with dark purple splotches splattered randomly about. The pants were next as they too were deemed as a lost cause. His underwear he shucked into the hamper and his socks – he took those off carefully and laid them gently next to the porcelain sink. 

He turned on the hot water and after a few minutes of waiting for it to heat up, he stepped into the shower and let the scalding water wash away his stress from the day. 

The last few hours had been hell. 

After the smoke had cleared, it had turned into absolute chaos. Deadeye, along with the three thugs, had disappeared into thin air, leaving the police scrambling over themselves – torn between spreading out and chasing down the offenders or staying and securing the safety of the hostages. After a few minutes of uncontrolled mayhem, Hanzo felt himself being hauled around by a police officer and dumped unceremoniously into the back seat of a police car. 

The next thing he knew, he was in an interrogation room down at the police station and they _still_ hadn’t even had the courtesy to untie him yet. It was there, in a cold concrete room – bound and gagged, that he waited for hours until finally someone came in. 

The detective had introduced himself and apologised half-heartedly as they cut the tape that held his wrists together and brutally ripped off the tape that was over his mouth (Hanzo barely contained a yelp of pain as he felt some of his beard being unrooted by the action). Apparently, as Hanzo listened to the detective explain with barely contained rage, they had thought he was an accomplice to Deadeye. 

If that had been the end of it – Hanzo would have been fine. But apparently, the gods weren’t done tormenting him yet. Next came the _actual_ interrogation. 

What did he look like – _I do not know, he was wearing a mask._ Have you ever seen him before – _how would I know if I had seen him before if I do not know what he looks like?_ Have you ever affiliated or known someone who was affiliated with PSVA or Pro-Supervillain Association – _no, I do not care for supervillains or superheroes._ Who do you think Deadeye could be – _with all due respect, is that not your job detective?_

The questions had gone on and on, seemingly with no end – circling back and forth between questions that Hanzo had already answered. Finally, when Hanzo was one question away from using his chair to knock the detective unconscious just so that he could go home, the interrogation had ended. But not without a parting gift apparently, his keys, phone, wallet and shoes were all part of a crime scene and therefore classified as evidence. At this point, Hanzo was surprised that they had not stripped the clothes off his back and bagged it as evidence too. 

Hanzo scrubbed furiously at his hair and body, trying to wash away the day’s events off his skin. He wanted nothing more than to curl into bed and forget that this day had ever happened. When he felt decently clean, he shut off the water with a sigh and stepped out of the shower – snatching a towel off the rack, drying himself off and wrapping it around his waist. 

He glanced at the pile of ruined clothing and opened the bathroom door to hide the mess behind it – he could probably bribe Genji into throwing those out for him. Morosely he turned towards the sink to survey the damage. 

His socks were ruined. 

The soles of his socks were pitch black from walking around without his shoes on, there were some sticky patches that Hanzo did not want to think too closely about and the tops had been stained with a thick layer of dark purple grime. Hanzo sighed as he turned on the tap and held his socks underneath the water to soak. Then he lathered his socks up with soap and began to scrub. 

“Hey darling, Genji let me in – you weren’t answering your phone and I was worried,” came a worried voice from just outside the bathroom about a half hour later. 

Hanzo ignored him as he continued to scrub. He could feel the anger and the frustration boiling underneath his skin and he did not trust himself to answer the question without unleashing his wrath on the unsuspecting guest. 

“Hey, what’s wrong darling?”

“The stains won’t come out,” Hanzo said, gritting his teeth. 

“What was that, honeybee? Can’t hear you properly over the water.”

“I said the stains won’t come out, Jesse,” Hanzo snarled, balling the wet socks together and throwing them angrily into the sink basin before grabbing the brim and taking deep heaving breaths to calm himself. 

“Hey, now sweetheart, no need to cry,” Jesse soothed, stepping closer and enveloping Hanzo into a hug who was definitely _not_ crying. “We can always get you new socks, darling.” 

“But I want _those_ socks,” he whined as he buried his face into Jesse’s chest – still definitely not crying. 

He heard Jesse snort and he raised his head to glare at the man above him. 

“What is it that you find so funny, Jesse?” Hanzo grumbled. 

“Nothin’, sweetheart,” Jesse murmured and when Hanzo did not relent in his glare he added, “it’s just that – you’re one of the toughest people I’ve met and this is what finally gets ya?”

Hanzo let his head thump back onto Jesse’s chest as he clutched him tighter. He closed his eyes as he willed Jesse to understand without him having to explain out loud. He buried his cheek against the soft flannel as he inhaled Jesse’s scent – the smell always calmed Hanzo. Even now he could feel the tension in his body start to fade as Jesse ran his fingers through Hanzo’s wet hair, humming a tune that Hanzo found familiar but couldn’t quite place. 

“They were the socks you gave me for our one-month anniversary,” Hanzo finally explained after a few minutes, refusing to look Jesse in the eye, embarrassed by his admission. 

He felt Jesse stretch to look over him and into the basin. 

“Oh, honey,” he heard Jesse croon, “I didn’t know you liked them so much – there’s more where that came from. We can getcha another pair. Maybe ones with lassos on them?” 

Hanzo snorted before he disentangled himself from Jesse’s embrace. He saw Jesse shoot him a worried look as he reluctantly let him go. 

“My family has always been strict,” he elaborated, “sentimental gifts were unheard of – they were always given with a purpose of being useful or improving oneself or as a show of status. I did not realise I could enjoy receiving gifts that were silly and frivolous – and they reminded me of you.” 

He looked away, not sure how Jesse would react to his confession. He felt Jesse grab his chin and tilt it so that he was looking straight into his eyes. 

“Hey, you’re dating me now – and if I could have it my way, we’ll be doing just that for a long time. And that means that you’re gonna get a lot of ‘silly and frivolous’ gifts – you’re room’s gonna be full of useless crap, darling,” Jesse said fondly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind Hanzo’s ear, before leaning down and giving him a kiss. 

Hanzo smiled, as he stood up on his toes to return the favour, nibbling gently on Jesse’s lip and looping his arms around Jesse’s neck. When Jesse finally broke the kiss, he gave Hanzo a dopey smile before slapping him on the butt. 

“Wha d’ya say we getcha dressed and head on down stairs and order some take out?” 

\-----------------

“Finally! What were you guys doing up there?” Genji asked turning around so he could rest his arms on the back of the couch, “wait don’t tell me – I don’t wanna know.” 

Hanzo heard Jesse chuckle as Genji pulled a disgusted face, turning back around to face the TV. A glance told him that Genji had it on to the evening news. He felt a warm hand at the small of his back as Jesse guided him to the couch, nudging him to take a seat. He then saw Jesse grabbing the blanket that was resting on the couch arm, flick it open, before draping it over Hanzo. 

When they first started dating, he found the notion of being wrapped up in a blanket ridiculous. After all he was a full-grown man not an infant. But now he was glad for the secure feeling it gave him when it was wrapped around him. 

“What do ya want for dinner, Hanzo?” Jesse asked, taking out his phone and tapping in the pin to unlock it. 

“Oooooo…. Are we ordering take out?” Genji asked, bouncing in excitement. “Hanzo never lets us do that!” 

Jesse chuckled, “Any preferences, Han?”

Hanzo shook his head, preferring to sink into the couch. He heard Genji chant pizza repeatedly, until Jesse finally relented and called up the local pizza place to place his order – two large pizzas, one peperoni and the other seafood which Jesse knew to be Hanzo’s favourite. 

_‘And now, over to you Lena, for the latest news on the Deadeye bank robbery…’_ the TV buzzed as it switched from the news anchor to a young woman standing in front of a police barricade, dressed in orange pants and white shirt. _‘Thanks, Amelie! Now, we’ve just heard that Captain Fareeha Amari is preparing to issue a statement stating that all bank robbers apart from Deadeye have officially been caught…’_

“Genji, do ya mind changing the channel?” Jesse asked, shooting a nervous glance at Hanzo. 

“What? Why? I want to know what’s going on!” Genji protested.

“It’s fine,” Hanzo interrupted before Jesse could reply, “I want to see.” 

_‘The hostage being held by Deadeye has now been identified as Hanzo Yamada,’_ Hanzo heard the reporter announce as saw his face being put on the screen, _‘A source has told me that he works for Overwatch Security and is in charge of the security for this weekend’s opening exhibit of “L’Incomparable Diamond” at the Gibraltar Museum of Modern Art that Deadeye is rumoured to have his eye on – no pun intended!’_

“Brother, you met Deadeye? How could you have not told me? Was he cool? Did he say _‘it’s high noon’_?” Genji shot off in rapid fire, imitating the southern drawl and pretending to shoot imaginary foes with his finger guns. 

Hanzo held up a hand to silence Genji as he focused back onto the report. They were now showing the film of Deadeye dragging him out of the bank – gagged and bound. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Jesse miming at Genji for him to cut it out. 

“What?” Genji exclaimed, turning around to look back at the TV, then at Hanzo – shock written clearly across his face. “Why did you let him do that to you? Why didn’t you just take him out?”

Hanzo saw Jesse give a curious look to Genji at his last statement but ignored them both in favour of listening to the TV. 

_‘…given recent events, many have begun to question whether Mr. Yamada is suited to lead such an important security detail with many calling for his replacement... And now to Mei for the weather….’_

“Wait, no – what? That’s ridiculous – it’s not like anyone else has had any luck catching him!” Genji yelled. “They can’t fire you for this!”

\---------------

“You’re fired.” 

Hanzo sat there in shock as Ana Amari took a sip from her tea. Distantly, he could hear a rhythmic squeaking indicating that the rusty hamster wheel that sat in the corner of Ana’s office was being used. 

Hanzo shot a glare into the corner. He had never liked Ana’s hamster which had always seemed too large and too _cunning_ for a hamster (Ana claimed that Fareeha had fed Hammond too much as a kid and that was why he was so big – but Hanzo was pretty sure it was impossible for hamsters to grow to the size of a small dog). He remembered when he had been first introduced, he had casually remarked that Hammond did not act very hamster-like. If Hanzo had not known better, he could have sworn that Hammond had rolled his tiny hamster eyes and begrudgingly hopped onto the wheel to run a few half-hearted laps. Now, whenever Hanzo was in Ana’s office, Hammond would always be running on the wheel – as if to prove a point. 

“Well, not fired, _fired_ – more like a two-week medical leave. Think of it as a holiday!” Ana encouraged gesturing brightly. “Just until this whole fiasco blows over.” 

“Madam, I understand what you are trying to say, but with all respect – I am the best at what I do,” Hanzo argued, “let me prove it to you – reinstate me as head of security.”

Ana hummed in a non-commitment manner, tapping her index finger against the porcelain cup. 

“The answer’s still no.” When she saw that Hanzo was not going to agree to her decision without a fight, she continued, “It’s for your own good – no one’s been able to catch Deadeye and the public would only continue to crucify you unfairly.” 

Hanzo slumped minutely in his chair – he was the former boss of a criminal empire that had influences spanning over the entirety of Asia. It felt weird to be bested (if indirectly) by an amateur second-rate jewellery thief. 

“Oh, don’t look so glum,” Ana consoled him patting his cheek. Whilst Hanzo was usually averse to other people touching him, there was something uniquely terrifying about Ana that he had not dared to object when he had first met her – and so the petting had continued. “By the way, dear, Fareeha wanted me to apologise for your treatment yesterday – said that the detective that was responsible has been reprimanded accordingly for his stupidity.” 

“It was a mistake anyone could have made,” Hanzo replied politely, reminding himself that any criticism of the police force was likely by extension a criticism on Fareeha and by extension again a criticism on his own boss. “Please thank her for her consideration, but no harm was done.” 

She gave him a critical look and then narrowed her eyes as if deep in contemplation before giving a snort and opening her draw and rummaging through the contents. Ana gave a cry of victory as she emerged with a glass jar. Uncapping it, she held it out in front of her in offering.

“Cookie?” 

\-----------

Hanzo sighed as he exited the Overwatch building, glumly clutching the cookies in his hand. He had already been forced to eat three out of politeness and a tiny bit of fear when Ana shook the jar menacingly in front of his face claiming that she had baked these herself (she had also fed one to Hammond after a series of squeaks). They were not bad – chocolate chip in flavour with a gooey peanut butter centre (could hamsters even eat chocolate?), Hanzo was just not a fan of sweets so early in the morning and could not stomach the idea of eating more. He briefly thought about giving them to Genji, but found that he did not quite want to go home yet. Instead, he turned and headed towards Atlas News headquarters. 

The walk over had been brief. He had bumped into the occasional tourist that was trying to take pictures of the massive statue of Soldier:76 that stood in the middle of the town, passed the coffee shop that Genji worked at (Treblemaker Café) and had waved at the owner, Lucio, who cheerily returned the gesture.

“Hanzo!” Jesse greeted him enthusiastically, standing up in his cubicle to wave him over. “What are you doing here, darling?”

Hanzo smiled warmly in return. “I had some left-over cookies and I thought you might like them. Having fun writing horoscopes?” 

“Hey! It’s not just horoscopes!”

“Oh yes, I forgot, you also run a love advice column,” Hanzo teased leaning into give Jesse a quick peck on the lips. 

“Damn right I do! These poor shmucks would never find love otherwise!”

Hanzo gave a chuckle as he handed Jesse the cookies. “What are you working on at the moment?”

“Just sorting through some of the public’s responses to the poor sap’s problem we published on Monday and trying to figure out what I wanna say as well,” Jesse explained biting into one of the cookies. 

“Wait – are these Ana’s cookies?” Jesse asked excitedly, face lighting up with childish glee as he shoved the remainder into mouth and spraying cookie crumbs everywhere. “I love you so much, babe!” 

Hanzo winced as he tried to subtly move out of the projectile zone – as endearing as that comment was, he did not enjoy being covered with food. 

“You know Mrs. Amari?” He asked surprised – it was odd that Jesse never mentioned that they knew each other. 

“Er… yeah, I guess hey? I guess it just never came up?” Jesse gave a nervous laugh. “She, Gabe and Jack go way back – but she must really like you! I mean she only gives these cookies out to people she really trusts!”

Hanzo narrowed his eyes in suspicion at Jesse’s deliberate attempt to avoid the topic further, but he decided not to pursue any further. Jesse had always been secretive when it came to matters involving Gabriel, who seemed to be some sort of an adoptive father to him. Perhaps it was because he did not want others to look at him and only see him for his connections? 

“Speaking of Gabriel, where is he?” Hanzo asked curiously, peeking over the cubicle wall to look at the office of the Chief Editor and finding it empty. 

“It’s very quiet today,” he added as he looked around the office. There were only a few people milling about – one was making coffee, another couple were chatting away over their cubicle walls and another was throwing a tennis ball at the wall and catching it on the rebound. A very productive office indeed. 

“Oh yeah, Gabe and Jack are on a romantic getaway for the week at a BnB,” Jesse said sucking the peanut butter and chocolate off his fingers, “it’s why everyone’s so chill. Oh and Li-… er, think Sombra is causing some mayhem downtown – apparently she hacked into the water fountain system and now all the fountains are spraying pictures of dicks, so everyone’s gone down to take pictures and what not.”

“What?”

“Oh, ya know those fancy water fountains they just installed – the ones that shoot water in a way that it forms a picture? She’s getting those to make pictures of dicks instead – which is kinda impressive if you ask me.”

“How immature,” Hanzo commented before giving off a deep sigh. “The town should really do something about these supervillains.” 

“Wha’d’ya mean?” Jesse asked as his entire demeanour becoming something entirely too serious – Hanzo gave him a curious glance but thought nothing of it. 

“Well, they cause so much damage and chaos and yet people still like them,” Hanzo replied shaking his head incredulously. “I just do not understand why we continue to let these supervillains run around and endanger people. Do you know how much money this town could save if we got rid of supervillains? How much safer everyone would be? And perhaps for once people would be able to actually _see_ the art gallery exhibit for once because it always gets stolen!”

Hanzo noticed that his voice had gotten progressively louder, causing the few heads left in the office to turn around and stare at him. Jesse stared at him in shock, Hanzo rarely got so passionate about anything. 

“To be fair, at least Deadeye returns the stuff he steals,” he mumbled turning away and looking like a hang dog – as if Hanzo had criticised him personally, “and no one really gets hurt.” 

“Jesse! The man held me hostage yesterday – I am suspended from work because of him! And it’s not only that – two months ago Reaper kidnapped Mayor Reinhardt and the whole town was on lock down, and before that Junkrat and Roadhog turned the river green and everyone had to drink bottled water for a week!”

Hanzo took a deep breath before continuing, “you have to admit, something needs to be done – one day someone could get hurt and it could be someone we care about.” 

Hanzo looked imploringly at Jesse who refused to meet his eye. Instead he fiddled with the stationary on his desk, sulking in his seat. Suddenly he shot up out of his chair, grabbing Hanzo by the arm he started to pull him towards the elevators. 

“Oh wow, look at the time – I’m mighty hungry, why don’t we go and grab a bite to eat,” then paused glancing around the office and then raised his voice so that the rest of the room could hear. “Why don’t you guys all join us?”

“Jesse, what are you – ”

A loud boom cut off the rest of his sentence as Gabriel Reyes’ office exploded into flames. Hanzo tackled Jesse out of instinct and the two tumbled to the ground. The air was thick with dust and smog, sending Hanzo into a coughing fit. The lights flickered above them, threatening to give out and somewhere a live wire sparked – raining down a shower of fiery little particles. 

A maniacal laughter rang out through the room accompanied by an ominous voice chanting, _‘die, die, die.’_

“Stay here,” Jesse instructed. “I’m gonna go pull the fire alarm.”

“Jesse –” but he had disappeared into the smoke before Hanzo could even finish his sentence. 

Hanzo scrambled up onto his knees to get chase after Jesse when a loud crunch of breaking glass from behind made him freeze in his tracks. Hanzo slowly turned only to find himself at the end of a shot gun. His eyes travelled up from the black leather trench coat clad figure, to the bone white mask framed by a hood. _Reaper._

“Well, well, well,” Reaper said conversationally as if they were at a local bar and not in a burning building – Hanzo noted that Reaper’s voice had the same electronic quality to it as Deadeye’s had, “who do we have here.” 

Hanzo glared as Reaper walked around him, eyeing him critically until he was standing in front of Hanzo. 

“You wouldn’t be able to tell me where dear old Gabriel Reyes is would you?” Reaper asked mockingly, levelling his shot gun until it was right in front of Hanzo’s face. “He doesn’t seem to be in his office.” 

Hanzo remained silent, refusing to give in to the supervillain’s demands. 

“No need to fear, I just wanted to thank him for writing all those wonderful accolades about me – I’m awfully flattered you see,” Reaper continued sarcastically, jabbing Hanzo in the face with the barrel of his gun. “No answer? Well I guess I’ll just have to find someone else.” 

The moment Reaper started to turn away, Hanzo lunged taking the other man off guard. He grabbed Reaper’s wrist, twisting it so that the gun was pointed upwards instead of at his face. Next, he used Reaper as a counter balance and hauled himself off the floor, kicking his legs out and felt them connect with the other man’s knees. He felt Reaper lose his balance as both of them tumbled to the floor. Hanzo rolled them over so that he was on top and used the resulting momentum to spring into a crouch, snatching the shotgun out of Reaper’s hands as he went. He turned to level the shotgun at Reaper only to find the man pointing another one back at him. 

“I have two,” Reaper explained wickedly, before pulling the trigger forcing Hanzo to dive sharply to the left behind a desk, narrowly missing the shrapnel. 

Hanzo scrambled to find more secure cover – the thick smog giving cover for his movements. Making base behind a large filing cabinet, he examined the sawed off shot gun – although he had never fired a shot gun before, he knew the basics mechanisms of a regular gun and hoped that it would be similar. A loud bang echoed as he heard Reaper blow a hole into whatever unfortunate object he was aiming at. 

“Come out, come out, wherever you are…” Reaper called in a sing song voice that seemed to echo around the room making it hard for Hanzo to pinpoint his location. 

Suddenly, the filing cabinet he was leaning on gave a shudder as a loud thud resonated throughout the room, and promptly begun to tip forward. Hanzo scrambled to get out of the way as the filing cabinet crashed onto the floor behind him, spilling folders everywhere. 

“I believe you have something of mine,” Reaper snarled as he loomed into Hanzo’s vision, pointing his gun at Hanzo’s head. “Give me the gun,” he demanded, holding out his other hand. 

“REAPER!” a loud voice boomed as a white and blue tackled Reaper to the ground. 

“Soldier: 76,” he heard Reaper hiss in response, kicking the other man off him and gliding back onto his feet. 

“Get out of here, kid!” the Soldier yelled as he aimed his weapon at Reaper. 

For a moment he was torn between staying and helping the Soldier out or getting out of the vigilante’s way. When both Soldier and Reaper disappeared into the flames, he classified it as a lost cause and ran towards the exit. 

\----------------- 

_‘Breaking News! There has been a new development on Tuesday’s bombing at the historical building of Atlas News by the notorious supervillain Reaper which left one person seriously injured. Captain Fareeha Amari issued a statement to the press today, saying that police believe Reaper was thought to be targeting Chief Editor, Gabriel Reyes who was fortunate enough to avoid the attack as he was not present at the time. She also announced that they were making headway on the shot gun, believed to be Reaper’s weapon, which will hopefully bring the detectives closer to solving just who Reaper is… ’_

Hanzo turned off the TV sinking down into the uncomfortable hospital chair. It had been three days and Jesse still had not woken up. It had also been three days since he last showered – he was well aware that he was starting to smell and his beard was starting to get a bit ratty. He sighed as he reached out to grasp Jesse’s limp hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. 

“You should really go home and get some rest, Mr Yamada,” came a feminine voice from the doorway. “I don’t think Jesse would be happy to see you like this.” 

“Dr. Ziegler,” Hanzo acknowledged, standing up to show his respect. “Any new information on Jesse?”

“Please, I’ve told you to call me Angela,” Dr. Ziegler said giving a warm smile. “And no, unfortunately we still do not know what is wrong with him – as I said, physically he’s perfectly fine, but for some reason he’s just not waking up.” She shook her head sadly. “But I’m glad to see that someone cares so much for him.” 

Hanzo gave a weak nod as he slumped back into his chair. 

“Don’t worry,” she added cheerfully, “I’m sure Jesse’s going be just fine.” 

“The Doc is right,” came a gruff voice, which Hanzo immediately recognised. 

Hanzo looked up just in time to see Gabriel Reyes and Jack Morrison march in through the doorway. Gabriel, Jack and Dr. Ziegler all shared a look before turning their attention to Hanzo in unison and then refocusing on each other. The gesture made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 

“Hello, I am Dr. Ziegler, but call me Angela. And you must be…” Dr. Ziegler trailed off. 

“Gabriel Reyes.” 

“Jack Morrison.” 

‘Lovely to meet you’ they all greeted as they shook hands. To be honest, the whole ordeal looked awkward and a bit forced to Hanzo. 

“Anyway, _Mr Yamada_ here has not left Jesse’s side for the past three days,” Angela announced shooting a meaningful look at both Gabriel and Jack. “I was just saying how wonderful it was that Jesse has someone to care for him like this.” 

“Yes, he is very lucky…” Jack replied robotically before adding “would you mind giving us a moment?”

“Of course,” Dr. Ziegler replied before stepping out of the room.

“Hey kid, how are you holding up,” Jack greeted gruffly, plopping down into a spare chair. 

“Fine,” Hanzo replied wearily. “How was your holiday?”

“Yeah, good. It was nice to smell the fresh air again and be out of the hustle and bustle of the city,” Jack responded, picking up a magazine which read _‘IS SOLDIER:76’S HAIR NATURALLY WHITE OR DOES HE DYE IT? FIND OUT WHAT OUR EXPERTS HAVE TO SAY ON PAGE 12’._ “Isn’t that right, Gabe?”

Gabriel grunted but didn’t reply. Hanzo frowned feeling a bit worried – usually Gabriel was the more talkative of the two. 

“Oh, don’t mind him,” Jack said, waving his hand as if to shoo off Hanzo’s worries. “Some punk got the drop on him a couple of days ago and he’s been sore ever since.” 

“Are you two alright?” Hanzo asked, alarmed. 

“Oh yeah, totally fine!” Jack reassured. “I got there in the nick of time and handled the situation smoothly.” 

Hanzo nodded, not quite sure what to make of that answer. Behind him, he could hear Gabriel muttering something darkly in Spanish under his breath. Jack let out a low whistle, drawing Hanzo’s attention back to him. 

“Wow, didn’t know that old man hair could be in style,” Jack admired, pointing at blurry picture of Soldier:76 which had obviously been taken with a phone camera. “Who would have thought, huh?”

Hanzo gave a weak smile as Gabriel snorted. 

“You should really go home, niño,” Gabriel grunted, finally choosing to speak up. “You look like shit.” 

Hanzo shook his head. “I want to be here when Jesse wakes up.” 

“He’ll be fine,” Gabriel said nonchalantly, rolling his eyes. “Kid’s tougher than a rock.” 

“You do not seem very concerned about your son’s wellbeing,” Hanzo said, tone coming out more accusatorily than he initially intended. 

“Hey! If anyone hurts Jesse – trust me I’ll be first in line to punch the crap out of that puta,” Gabriel retorted. “He’s fine!” 

Hanzo felt himself puff up in anger at Gabriel’s brazen attitude. 

“What Gabriel _meant_ to say is that we all care for Jesse very much, but it would do him no good if you ran yourself into the ground,” Jack reasoned, cutting off any reply that Hanzo had. “Go home, get some rest. Look after yourself.” 

Hanzo deflated, anger seeping out of his body. Of course, Jack and Gabriel cared about Jesse – they were the closest thing he had to parents. 

“I apologise for my rude comments,” Hanzo said sincerely, rubbing his eyes. “It was uncalled for.” 

“Don’t worry about it kid,” Gabriel grumbled, “just go home and get some sleep.” 

“I’ll walk you out,” Jack offered standing up and guiding Hanzo out of the room. Distantly he could hear Gabriel yelling something about personally kicking his ass out if he saw him back before Sunday. “Don’t mind Gabe – people, er, deal with stress in different ways.” 

Hanzo nodded as they rode the elevator down to the ground floor. 

“We’ll call you if anything changes,” Jack promised as he ushered him into the back of a cab. “Get some rest, you must be really tired.” 

And Jack was right. As soon as Hanzo got into his bed – he was out like a light. 

\--------------

The next morning, Hanzo woke up feeling more refreshed but still a bit groggy. His first instinct was to rush back to the hospital to check on Jesse, but when he checked his text messages he saw one from Gabriel saying he was being serious about Hanzo not returning before Sunday – and added that if he saw him, he would kick his ass six ways to Mars (there was another more politely worded one from Jack that said Jesse was fine and there was no need to worry). Instead, Hanzo chose to take a shower and then decided to make himself a cup of tea in the kitchen.

“Morning, brother,” Genji greeted, trudging sleepily into the kitchen, opening the fridge before taking out the milk and pouring it into a bowl. “How come you’re not at the hospital? Did Jesse wake up?” He asked again, this time more excited. 

Hanzo shook his head. “No – Jack and Gabe just arrived back from their trip yesterday and are currently looking after Jesse.” 

“Oh, that sucks,” Genji said glumly adding ‘Bastion Gears’ to his bowl – a sugary cereal originating in Gibraltar with different coloured pieces shaped like gears and bird shaped marshmallows. “Man, these supervillains are getting crazy these days – can’t believe that Jesse actually got hurt.” 

Hanzo nodded feeling a hollow sense of satisfaction that someone was finally agreeing with him. “Something needs to be done.” 

It was then, sitting in his kitchen, staring at Genji’s childlike drawing of ‘Sentaiman’ _(it’s my superhero costume, brother!)_ that was pinned to the fridge by a magnet that it dawned on him. He could do it – he had the training, the equipment, the skills. He could eliminate Gibraltar’s supervillain problem and then everyone would be safe again. No one would ever have to get hurt again. 

And he knew just who to start with. 

Hanzo stood up, startling Genji. He could feel the adrenaline pumping through his veins and he felt alive for the first time in days. 

“Genji, do you still have that kabuki costume from Halloween?”

“Uh… yeah, I think it’s somewhere in my room. Why?” 

“No reason.”


End file.
